


A Passing Conversation

by MelodyoftheVoid



Series: Forged Identities [2]
Category: Invader Zim
Genre: Brotherly Love, First Meetings, Foreshadowing, M/M, Meet-Cute, Rival Relationship, ah well, listen, more fun for me, they were close once, they were enemies once, y'all just didn't see that line did ya
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-18
Updated: 2020-12-18
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:36:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28140999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MelodyoftheVoid/pseuds/MelodyoftheVoid
Summary: Sometimes two people meet and like ships in the night they must also part in spite of what could have been. Zib knew that feeling, as childish as it was to wish otherwise.
Relationships: Dib & Zib | Zim Number 1, Zib | Zim Number 1 / Zim Number Two
Series: Forged Identities [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2048246
Comments: 29
Kudos: 33





	A Passing Conversation

Zib really did not want to be here.

Not that he didn’t like Irk, the kingdom was full of mysteries that he and his brother would pour over in their free time. The details of the magic the royal family hid from the world. Sure that was something of a major task to overcome for a pair of ten-year-olds but that wouldn’t stop them. 

Mostly, at this exact moment Zib didn’t want to be forced to go on errands with Zim. 

For whatever gods forsaken reason, Zim had insisted on accompanying the tutor/glorified personal butler out into town, and since the twins were in town, that meant Dib had to go with Zim. And because  _ he _ didn’t want to spend time alone in the castle, that meant Zib was obligated to go as well. 

And so the beleaguered man was saddled with three royal children in the bustling market, Zib doing his absolute best to stay quiet and polite while Zim and Dib bickered beside him. It was times like this where he wondered how these two would get married. What a day that would be. There’d be a fight involved, Zib was sure of it.

  
  
“Stink-monkey.”

  
  
“Bug-face.”

“Zim loathes your stupid big head.”

  
  
“HEY MY HEAD ISN’T BIG!”

“IT IS SO!” 

Before the betrothed could get into another fight, or one of them could get out of the treaty the only way they knew how, Haus stepped in between them, separating the warring princes. Zib didn’t know how one person could look so tired and still manage to function. It was admirable. 

“HEY!”

  
  
“LET ME AT THE TIERRAN FILTH THIS INSTANT! I DEMAND IT!” 

“Ughhh, alright. Listen. I know I shouldn’t do this, but I’m getting a headache and I’m only technically responsible for Zim. You two can just… visit some of the shops.”

Dib stopped trying to reach out and hit Zim, trepidation growing on his face, “Wait, just us? Alone?”   
  
  


“Are you sure that is the best course of action? We might be accosted by some vagrant.”   
  
Haus stared for a moment at Zib. He wasn’t sure what he said wrong, the nobles usually liked when he used that language. It was proper wasn’t it?

“I’m sure you’ll be fine, meet us by that fountain,” the man pointed to a large stone statue in the center of the square, “in about an hour. Don’t do anything stupid. Zim come with me, please don’t sneak off.” 

“I make no promises.”

With a sigh, the Irkens left the Tierrans, and the brothers stared for a moment. They’d never been left unsupervised in Irk before, or really left unsupervised for more than ten minutes. 

“Well. Uh…” 

“This is… a quandary. So, Dib, where do you wish to explore?” 

“I’m… not sure. Hey, Zib?”

“Yes?”

  
  
“Why do you talk like that?”

  
  
“In what manner?”

  
  
“Like that! Zib, you sound like our textbooks.”

The wind got knocked out of Zib’s sails once more. He normally was complemented for his maturity and vocabulary, it was a sign that he was well ahead of expectations, reading and speaking above his age. So what if it was like the textbooks, they were respected for a reason!

“I think that it sounds dignified, one should always try and speak with dignity.”

Dib snickered slightly, “You sound like you’ve been possessed by Madame Bitters and a dictionary.”

Zib huffed, crossing his arms and turning away, “Madame Bitters never calls anyone bug-face, so I’ll take it.”

The pair looked at the different shops, each trying to remember what the different letters of the irken alphabet were. One building, billowing smoke up from a chimney, seemed to have the word magic carved into the side of the building! His twin seemed to have the same idea, pointing to the sign excitedly and already moving to go towards it. 

Unfortunately for the duo, it was not a shop full of magic items. No, instead they found themselves in a forge, the smell of charcoal and metal sharp in the air. Their initial disappointment was brief though, as the weapons that lined the walls were some of the most intricate they’d seen, ranging from delicate rapiers to massive broadswords. 

Yet something else caught Zib’s eye. 

The sound of hammering that he’d heard when he walked in had stopped, and when he looked up, he saw a boy, about his age. His purple cloak and black gloves indicating that he was an apprentice to the local blacksmith. The moment Zib made eye contact, he looked down, face flushed. Zib felt his own face light up, heat rushing to his cheeks. 

Was- was he looked at first? 

The apprentice was certainly… cute. Fluffy brown hair and big brown eyes, he almost reminded Zib of a puppy. The attention was so brief but Zib wanted to know more and see if it really was him, if for once in his life someone looked his way. 

Spurred on by either euphoria or the prospect of wandering around the city for another hour, he approached the forge, clearing his throat. 

“Ah, greetings. How are you on this fine day?”

The apprentice jumped, looking up at the prince startled. 

“Oh- oh hi- I mean, greetings? Hello there,” it seemed Zib’s appearance fully registered, and the purple cloak fluttered as the boy bowed, “your highness! Highnesses! I’m sorry if my Tierran is rusty, so sorry.” 

“It’s quite alright, no need for such formalities. My brother and I are merely browsing the many establishments of this city. What, pray tell, is your name?” 

The silence that followed was… painful for lack of a better word. Zib at least appreciated Dib keeping his snickers to a minimum. 

“Ah- well my name is Tw-,” before he could finish his sentence, the edge of his cloak brushed against the still hot coals, setting the fabric ablaze. 

“Oh my goodness! Is there any water?!” 

“I’VE GOT IT!”

Before Zib could blink, the boy had pulled off the cloak, stamping on it to smother the flames. 

“...that’s the third time this week.”

“It’s quite alright, nothing to fret over.”

The apprentice stopped again, looking deep in thought. Oh gods, it was how he talked wasn’t it? 

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to sound snooty.”

“No, it’s just- I’ve never heard anyone talk like you before. It’s neat!” 

“Really?” 

“Yeah! Can you teach me how to talk like that?”

Oh. Oh no. Zib let out a nervous laugh, unsure if this was a trick or if this complete stranger was genuine. The more he searched though, there was only earnest curiosity.

“O-oh, if you wish.”

For what felt like a brief moment, it was just the two of them, Zib excitedly explaining the intricacies of proper diction, some of his favorite words to use, and all of it was absorbed with rapt attention, his audience of one only making small comments of encouragement. 

A cough snapped Zib out of his ramble, his brother pointing toward the door.

“Sorry to interrupt but I think I can hear Zim starting to get impatient.”

“Oh, oh goodness you’re right! Thank you for listening to me!” 

“Th-thank you for talking to me, your highness!”

  
  
“Call me Zib, if we ever meet again!” 

“Ok!” 

Zib followed after Dib, who as soon as they’d exited the shop, turned to him expectantly. 

“So~,” Dib leaned in close, an impish grin on his face, “who was that?”

“Dib no, come on.”   
  


His twin’s smile only grew wider.

“Oh you must like him, you’re talking like a kid now! What’s his name?”

It dawned on Zib that he forgot to ask for the apprentice’s name and had carried on a conversation without even thinking about it. But… In the long run…

“It’s… it’s not important. I’m probably never going to even see him again.”

  
  
“Well, I think he liked you. Now come on, we don’t want to get in trouble or get left behind!”

“Of course, coming!” 

The twins ran toward the fountain, but for a moment Zib looked back, and the boy was there looking back at him. He waved, face dusted in pink. Even if he never saw him again… it was nice to be seen. To be liked for himself. 

Maybe things would be alright after all. 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> :) 
> 
> ~Y'all kept asking if Two was going to get involved, and I refused to answer for a reason. I have my plans y'all. I have my plans~


End file.
